


champagne problems

by thecryptictaxi



Series: evermore [1]
Category: A Series of Unfortunate Events (TV), A Series of Unfortunate Events - Lemony Snicket
Genre: Angst, Break Up, Canonical Character Death, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Hurt No Comfort, Marriage Proposal, UNEDITED SORRY, if you already know champagne problems there ya go that's the plot, kitrice but make it taylor swift, no i'm not mentally stable what about it, warning: this is sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-11
Updated: 2021-01-11
Packaged: 2021-03-15 17:01:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28692114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecryptictaxi/pseuds/thecryptictaxi
Summary: There was no music, only the sound of their breaths, and Kit heard the question before it was even said.“Kit Snicket,” Beatrice whispered. “Will you marry me?”[in which kit must refuse a marriage proposal]
Relationships: Beatrice Baudelaire/Kit Snicket
Series: evermore [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2107644
Comments: 4
Kudos: 5





	champagne problems

**Author's Note:**

> lighten up this depressing fic by playing a game: how many non-champagne problems related taylor swift references are there? i count at least nine.

Kit sat alone in the library, flipping mindlessly through an old romance book she had no interest in. Sighing, she looked up, and through the windows, she could see the setting sun bleed into a picture perfect sunset.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” a voice whispered from behind. Kit didn’t have to turn her head to know who it was. She could recognize that alluring voice from a mile away.

Beatrice Baudelaire wrapped her slender arms around her lover and pressed a gentle kiss on the back of her head. Then, she sat herself on Kit’s lap, pulling their bodies close. They stayed like this for what could have been an eternity.

“I brought champagne.” Beatrice finally pulled away from their tight embrace and extracted a bottle from her bag. Dom Perignon. Producing two champagne glasses, Beatrice poured both of them a generous helping of alcohol.

“Cheers,” Kit said.

There was a clink, then silence as they drank.

“You look beautiful tonight,” Beatrice said.

“You’re one to talk, B. You always look perfect.”

They fell into an easy silence. Beatrice picked up the book Kit had discarded and flipped through it leisurely. Meanwhile, Kit downed her champagne in one gulp and poured herself a new glass, all the while looking out at the sunset. Admiring it. Engraving it into her mind.

They spent many of their nights like this, silently bathing in each other’s presence. Due to the secrecy of their jobs, it was difficult to find time for each other, but it was crucial that they did, for they only had each other to lean on. Each clandestine meeting brought immeasurable joy to Kit’s mind.

It was the calm before the storm, they knew this. Inevitably, the universe would regain its balance, and the happiness bestowed upon Beatrice and Kit would be taken away. You couldn’t have happiness without tragedy. The looming threat lingered in Kit’s mind, but she pushed it away.

Kit hadn’t seen Beatrice in almost a month, and she longed for her touch. She set down her glass and batted away the book in Beatrice’s hand.

“Kiss me,” was all Kit had to say.

The cool air of the library turned electric as her mouth was overwhelmed with the taste of citrus and champagne. Kit’s thoughts blurred together and all she could think of was Beatrice. Beatrice, Beatrice, Beatrice.

Beatrice’s fingers ran across her body and sparks flew through her veins. Kit’s own hands found sanctuary on her lover’s waist. It was pure ecstasy.

Two hours later, disheveled and satisfied, the couple exited the library hand in hand, giggling like school children. Eagerly, they walked up countless flights of stairs together until they reached the top most floor. Cracking open the window, the pair climbed up to the rooftop.

The sun had set long ago and the dark sky was peppered with stars, each one of them shining just as bright as the ring in Beatrice’s pocket.

“Dance with me.”

Under the moonlight, they waltzed, twirling this way and that, their feet moving across the roof in quick, synchronized steps. They waltzed until the clock struck twelve. Then, they danced slowly, with their foreheads pressed together and their fingers entwined.

There was no music, only the sound of their breaths, and Kit heard the question before it was even said.

“Kit Snicket,” Beatrice whispered. “Will you marry me?”

Kit didn’t answer. She swayed with Beatrice one last time before pulling away and dropping her hand.

“Beatrice, I can’t.” Her voice was pained. “I can’t. I’m sorry.”

Beatrice stood there, silent and unmoving. Then, she finally managed to let out a single word.

“Why?”

“I…” Kit trailed off.

The two looked into each other’s eyes. Just a minute ago, everything had been perfect, Kit thought. Now, it was all ruined. And she couldn’t even give a reason.

“It’s okay, Kit,” Beatrice said softly.

“Are you going to go back to the City?”

“Yes.”

“You can stay for the night, if you’d like.”

“I already booked a train.” As if she had already predicted Kit’s answer.

“Oh.”

_Why did you even bother to ask me if you knew the answer?_ Kit refrained from asking.

“Just tell me, Kit. Don’t you love me? Or is this just a short-lived fantasy to you?”

“Of course I love you, B. How could I not?”

“I know our relationship isn’t the same anymore. And I know we’re wading in dangerous waters. But doesn’t love conquer all? Kit?”

Kit wanted to reply but she couldn’t find the words to express her thoughts. Instead, she approached the open window and slipped inside the building, sealing her answer to the proposal. Leaving Beatrice crestfallen and broken.

They came face to face a mere month later.

“Hello, Kit,” Beatrice said. “How are you?”

“I’m well. And you?”

“I haven’t told anyone about our break up, if that’s what you’re asking. But I suppose I’ll have to soon. I’m meeting the Denouements for dinner tomorrow. I’ll break it to them then.”

Beatrice’s tone was light, as if she were talking to an old friend, not the woman who had just recently rejected a marriage proposal.

“Beatrice, I’m sorry,” Kit said. “I don’t want you to feel like I led you on. I truly did love you. Do, I mean. I just...”

“I’m not angry,” Beatrice replied. “Sometimes you just don’t know the answer until someone asks you.”

“I love you, but I’m not the one, you know that. You’ll find the real thing instead.”

_And you’ll forget about me_ , Kit said in her mind.

The secret was out the following night, and within a week, everyone knew about their break up.

“She would have made such a lovely bride, what a shame she’s fucked in the head,” they all said.

And Kit, rebellious Kit, could not bring herself to muster up a response. She knew all too well that breaking up with Beatrice Baudelaire might as well have been a sin.

“I couldn’t do that to Lemony,” she said to anyone who had the courage to ask her why she did what she did. But she was lying, and everyone knew it.

As she predicted, two years later, Lemony proposed to Beatrice. Kit wrangled a smile on her face as she congratulated the newly engaged couple, but she felt the eyes of everyone on her, as if they expected her to cause a scene. She didn’t. It was too late, and if Lemony made Beatrice happy, who was she to get in between that? 

Then, Lemony died. But even then, Beatrice wasn’t alone for long. Soon enough, Bertrand came along and swept her off her feet. And everything changed.

Kit watched as Beatrice grew into a new person. She had children and left the VFD, and eventually, Beatrice’s broken heart was mended. She forgot all about Kit. Forgot about her champagne problems.

Now, as Kit was on her deathbed, she clung onto her newborn baby weakly. She wondered, however right it had felt at the time, if she had made a mistake in leaving Beatrice on that rooftop. If she had gone back to beg for forgiveness, would everything be different today? If she hadn’t dropped Beatrice’s hand. If she hadn’t left her standing. If she hadn’t burned the dress she wore that midnight. She wondered if Beatrice would still be alive. If she herself could keep on living.

Her time on earth was coming to an end. She would, in just a short amount of time later, be dead. Where she would go, she had no idea. Would she be reborn? Or was it just darkness? Even worse — was there really a heaven and a hell? If so, she would most likely spend the rest of eternity in hell. Away from Beatrice, who would surely go to heaven.

“Does the baby have a name?” the soft voice of Violet Baudelaire asked.

Before she took her last breath, Kit uttered the only name she could think of.

“Beatrice. Beatrice Baudelaire.”

**Author's Note:**

> god i love evermore so much it’s practically my only personality trait and someone needs to stop me from writing a fic for each of the evermore songs alsjdflj
> 
> also i didn't explicitly state it in the story so in case you didn't catch it, kit rejected the proposal because  
> 1\. mental health issues  
> 2\. she thought she wasn't good enough for b  
> 3\. she knew that eventually, tragedy was going to strike and she thought that breaking up with b on her own terms would prevent b's death  
> 
> 
> yuh
> 
> come say hello on my [tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/inner-egg-pong)!


End file.
